


I pour my heart a new foundation

by grasslandgirl



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, M/M, POV Alternating, bc apparently we're getting word of god coffee order confirmations now, calling cody 'night angel' is a love language i don't make the rules, dale is alive bc i said so, he/they cody walsh, i had to change Pete's order from an oat milk latte to a tea bc ally said so, its my birthday ill post cody/pete fic if i want to, no magic au and i don't know how the dream team all met don't ask me, surprise! there's only one bed and sofia is a matchmaker, the coffeeshop itself plays very little influence to the story as a whole, what's the line between using too many italics and it becoming a Stylistic Choice? dont answer that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28612809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grasslandgirl/pseuds/grasslandgirl
Summary: Maybe Pete had a tendency to catch feelings for people wildly out of his league and ruin friendships because of it.Pete wasn’t going todoanything about it. Cody was still finding their footing with Sofie and Ricky and the others, and Pete remembered how his mostly-amicable break up with Rowan had shaken the foundations of their little family. He couldn’t stand to do that again. Plus, he’d gotten a little too used to seeing Cody around. Loitering outside Uncommon Knowledge when Pete gets off, lighting up with a sharp grin whenever Pete comes into Wally’s, dragging Pete along whenever Sofie convinces them to see her psychic with her. They were friends, and it was- it was really good, actually. And even if Pete did daydream about holding their hand or sitting together at Wally’s when Cody got off work or dragging his hands through their long, irritatingly soft-looking hair; it didn’tmeananything.Sometimes, it was just nice to dream about stuff he couldn’t have.
Relationships: Cody Walsh/ Pete Conlan, Cody Walsh/ Pete the Plug, Kingston Brown/Elizabeth "Liz" Herrera, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Ricky Matsui/Esther Sinclair, Sofia Bicicleta/Dale Lee
Comments: 12
Kudos: 70





	I pour my heart a new foundation

**Author's Note:**

> endless amounts of thanks to the wonderful [jack @nonbinarywithaknife](https://nonbinarywithaknife.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, and please be sure to [check out their fics here on ao3,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleboxes/pseuds/nonbinarywithaknife) they've written one of my favorite cody/pete fics of all time!!  
> title comes from O My Heart by Mother Mother bc i have brainrot

**PETE:**

Uncommon Knowledge was quiet most mornings, with only a handful of people going in and out. It was the off-season- the awkward month and a half between people starting school and the beginning of the holiday shopping season. But Pete loved New York in the fall- how the leaves changed colors, the way they’d fly through the air on the breezes that tore down narrow alleyways, how he could wear all the heavy jackets in his closet to work without having to worry about sweating his brains out. It was nice, and Pete didn’t mind working the morning shift, he liked seeing the city wake up and come to life. He liked being able to talk to and help people individually when they came in, learn about what they were looking for and make a connection- even if only for fifteen minutes. 

And, if he stopped to get a cup of tea at the coffee shop with the cute goth barista on his block every time he opened, so what?

Pete tapped his pen against his lips, staring out the store’s window and trying not to daydream about the cute barista- _Night Angel,_ according to his name tag, which really shouldn’t have been as cute as it was. He was trying to write- _something,_ he wasn’t sure yet. He’d gotten an indie little pocket notebook and carried around a pen and everything, just in case inspiration struck at some random, inopportune time; but thus far, no dice. He hadn’t even really decided what he was writing, or what he was writing about. Poetry, maybe? Or some fantastical fiction novel? He had some ideas about New York City- but like, with _magic-_ but Pete could never get it to sound anything but try-hard and juvenile. He’d even considered trying to write something personal, like a memoir or realistic fiction about being trans in a conservative family but… no. Not yet, at least.

His phone buzzed with a message, and for a second, Pete thought about his _other_ phone, the one he hadn’t used in months. It was still weird, only having the one phone, wondering every time he got a message whether it was going to be 53\/3N, somehow, asking where he was. He brushed the thought away, it was fine- he was _fine._

**_Ricky:_ ** _hey are you busy at work? I’m out for a run in your area, might stop by?_

The message was accompanied, of course, by a selfie- Ricky, mid-run, sweaty and somehow still glowing. 

**_Pete:_ ** _ya sure cmon by_

He picked his- still mostly empty- notebook off the counter after he texted Ricky, shoving it into his pocket. He wasn’t _hiding_ his writing attempts from his friends, per say, but he knew Ricky would be overwhelmingly enthusiastic and supportive of it, even before Pete had anything concrete to be proud of. 

“Hey Pete!” Ricky called as he walked through the door, seemingly unfazed by his run from Clinton Hill to Pete’s shop in Harlem. 

“Hey Ricky.” Pete grinned, leaning over the counter to bump Ricky’s fist in greeting. “How’s Esther?”

Ricky’s grin, if possible, got wider. “She’s really good, you know, academia’s busy and everything, but yeah- really good.” He dragged a hand through his hair, pushing it off of his forehead. “You should come over for dinner sometime, we just finished remodeling the kitchen, and I’m in the middle of teaching Ox how to shake, and I know Esther would love to see you.”

“Yeah, dude, that sounds great. I can’t do this weekend- I was gonna go see a game with Kingston, but next week, maybe?”

“Yeah, invite him too. I’ll call Sofie, we can get the whole gang together.” Ricky paused, uncertain for a moment, “I don’t know if Rowan’s in town, but we don’t- if you’re not…?”

“Oh, yeah, no I don’t think she’s in the city,” Pete said quickly, cutting off Ricky’s awkward attempted question. “But we’re, you know, good or whatever.” 

“Yeah?” Ricky raised his eyebrows, disbelieving. 

“I mean, whatever, it’s awkward, but we’re fine, it’s fine.”

“Pete,” Ricky put his hand on Pete’s arm, “you know you can talk to me about it if you want. Or Kingston, or Sofie, even- we’re your friends, and we’re not gonna take sides or anything.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Pete rubbed the back of his neck. It was always nice and a little disconcerting when Ricky got like this- intensely supportive. “Thanks, dude.”

“Yeah,” Ricky brightened, letting go of Pete’s arm, “what’re friends for?”

“Uh, so, are you looking for anything to read?” Pete asked, glancing around the store.

Ricky grimaced. “I’m actually still working through that book Esther gave me for my birthday, but thanks? Maybe in a month or something you could recommend something for Esther, though? She’s always reading.” 

Pete bit down on a laugh, determined not to comment on the fact that Ricky’s birthday had been nearly nine months prior. “Yeah dude, totally, I’ll start looking for stuff.”

“Well-” Ricky glanced down at his watch, reading a notification that had just popped up- “I should probably get going, I’m supposed to get lunch with one of the Johns and I want to finish up my run before I head back to the apartment.”

“Yeah, sounds good. It was good to see you, Ricky; text me if there’s anything I can bring to you and Esther’s next week, yeah?”

“Yeah, totally,” Ricky nodded, waving at Pete as he opened the door to the shop. “Later, Pete!” 

And again, Pete was left alone in Uncommon Knowledge. He pulled out his notebook again, determined to make some headway into whatever it is he was writing, and glanced up to see the edge of a black jacket, turning the corner past the store. It had almost looked like… Pete shook his head. It was a coincidence. Or it was someone else in a similar jacket. Or, it _was_ the cute barista he was trying not to think about, walking to or from the coffeeshop. It was just down the block. It probably didn’t have anything to do with Pete. 

The rest of the week flew by like normal; quiet mornings and busier afternoons. Pete went to the game with Kingston and solidified plans with Ricky for the following week- Saturday, 5pm, the usual crew plus some friend Sofie was dragging along. 

Pete wound up grabbing a bottle of sparkling cider and some break-and-bake cookies from the grocery store to bring with; it always felt weird to show up at someone’s house empty handed, even if it was just Ricky and Esther. Kingston and Liz were already there when Pete knocked on the door to the Matsui-Sinclair household- they weren’t married yet, but it’d be soon if Sofie or Esther’s mom had anything to do with it. 

Esther greeted him at the door with a warm hug and Ox at her heels, with Ricky close behind, throwing his arms over his girlfriend’s shoulders and grinning at Pete. He settled in the living room, on the couch beside Kingston and Bruce on his lap. Liz was telling Esther something about a historical legal loophole she’d read about in a New Yorker article, and Pete couldn’t help glancing at Ricky in mutual bemused confusion. It was- it was nice. 

It’d been a while since they’d all gotten together- even if Rowan’s absence was a palpable hole and Sofie and Dale were running late as always- but Pete hadn’t realized how much he missed being a part of a group. The familiar ebb and flow of conversation and laughter, sharing pointed looks with Kingston and Esther and Ricky about the others. They were all drinking water, too, or soda, but it was casual. Effortlessly making a safe space for him and Sofie, making sure they were comfortable. 

Pete was in the middle of telling a story about a kid who came into the store to ask about George RR Martin books when the front door slammed open. “We’re here!!” Sofie called, bustling into the kitchen. Esther jumped to her feet, grinning and unsurprised at Sof’s antics. “Sorry we’re late, I had to grab the last of this lasagna my ma made out of the freezer and then Dale tried to talk Cody out of wearing this ancient duster jacket he’s like, emotionally attached to-”

“Hey!” A voice Pete didn’t recognize interrupted, presumably Sofie’s friend Cody, “What’s wrong with being emotionally attached to a jacket? It’s a _good jacket-”_

“Plus, the train was running behind schedule,” Sofie continued, unfazed by Cody’s attempted interjections. _“Sooo,_ anyway, here we are!”

Dale peeked his head around the wall separating the kitchen from the living room. “Hey everyone; Kingston, Liz, Pete.” He strode into the room, reaching out to shake Kingston’s hand and pulling Ricky into a hug. Sofie rushed into the room not long after, pecking Ricky and Pete on the cheek in greeting before sitting primly on Dale’s lap on the couch. “Thanks so much for having us, Esther,” Dale said, wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist as Esther reentered the living room. 

“Of course.”

“Everyone, this is Cody; Cody, this everyone.” Sofia said, gesturing in turn to the person behind Esther, and then to the room as a whole. Pete couldn’t see much at first- Cody was mostly blocked by Esther- just somebody tall with boots and a heavy-looking black jacket. He tilted his head, trying to give a friendly smile, and frozen when he caught Cody’s eye.

It was the cute goth barista- Night Angel.

God, Pete was going to die on the spot.

* * *

**CODY:**

Cody didn’t ask to be dragged along to Sofia’s pseudo-family dinner as a third wheel with her and her husband. But then again, he wasn’t given much of a choice either way.

Sofia Lee was the kind of woman who grabbed onto people and wouldn’t let go- Cody should know, he’d been trying to convince her he wasn’t worth her pity-friendship since they met; with about as much success as he’d had in arguing his way out of dinner. She’d shown up at the coffeeshop Cody was working at, Wally’s Place, one morning looking dead on her feet and had started rambling to him about her personal life, like he was some cliche therapist-bartender in a hallmark movie, there to solve all her problems. It wasn’t the worst, though. Sofia was funny, and had the craziest fucking stories (even though they were all about Staten Island), and seemed to somehow actually _care_ about Cody’s thoughts, even though they’d just met. She listened to him rant about the mall closing, and how no one seemed to care about it, and about how he was stuck working some barista job which was _way_ less cool than managing the Hot Topic- even though his boss did let him wear his duster and his boots to work. Somehow, she got him to open up about moving to a different part of the city after the mall closed, and how uprooted and isolated he felt- even though he was _totally fine_ on his own, like a fucking lone wolf. She’d watched him with a quiet, scrutinizing sparkle in her eye, and winked at him before finally leaving the shop. 

She came back almost every other day after that, like she was adopting him like some useless fucking baby bird. Cody couldn’t bring himself to hate it _that_ much. 

That was, until she demanded that he come with her to her friend’s house for dinner, like she was friend-setting him up with her whole little posse, probably full of a bunch of weird Staten Island hairdressers and their normie husbands. He tried to argue his way out of it, which was about as successful as trying to argue with a brick wall, and eventually agreed to go when Sofie promised she’d stop trying to get him to try her peppermint-mocha-chip iced latte order. 

Dale was surprisingly less of a normie than Cody had expected. Kind of buff, which he could appreciate, though body builders weren’t really his type, and had the same kind of off-beat, surprising kind of humor Sofie had. Watching them poke and tease each other on the subway left a kind of itch in the back of Cody’s throat. The way Dale held the grocery bags he was carrying over Sofie’s head- which wasn’t hard, even in the heels- so she wouldn’t make him hand them over to her, the way he held out his hand to help her step off the subway without a second thought. The way they worked together like an oiled machine, perfectly in sync. It was- ugh, sappy and kitschy and gross, really. And it made Cody think of how his ex would sit on the couch and let Cody rant about FFIV for hours without complaint, even though he didn’t play. 

Ugh, _whatever._

Sofie opened the door to her friends’ house and charged inside without knocking when they arrived- it was kind of nice to know that it wasn’t just Cody’s life that Sofia had charged headfirst into and claimed as her own. A woman rushed to greet them at the door and, okay, maybe Cody had been wrong about all Sofie’s friends being Staten Island hairdressers, because this lady was actually kind of punk. Natural curly hair with streaks of blue, big chunky silver rings and necklaces, a tattoo spiraling around her arm- it wasn’t Cody’s vibe, but he could appreciate toned down punk, too. The woman shook Cody’s hand and introduced herself as Esther, while Sofie shoved a tinfoil pan into the freezer and started yelling about why they were late. 

“Hey! What’s wrong with being emotionally attached to a jacket? It’s a _good jacket-”_ Cody argued when she dissed his jacket, but Sofie steamrolled over him. He looked between Esther and Dale, offended, but they were both smirking at him knowingly. _God, what had he gotten himself into?_

Dale stepped past him and Esther, turning the corner into the rest of the apartment, saying something to the rest of the people there. 

“Come on, come meet everybody,” Sofie said, after she’d put out the bread they’d brought onto a plate from Esther’s kitchen, and followed after Dale around the corner. Esther followed close after, and Cody trailed behind her, trying to step on the rising anxiety in the pit of his stomach. They’d be cool, right? Sofie wouldn’t lead him into a party of shitty people, right?

The corner opened up into a wider living room with an exposed-brick wall and a crowd of people piled onto chairs and couches. “Everyone,” Sofie announced from atop Dale’s lap, her husband watching her bemusedly, “this is Cody; Cody, this is everyone!” She pointed at him first, still standing awkwardly behind Esther, and then gestured widely to the rest of the room. 

“Babe, you’re gonna have to give him more than just ‘everyone,’” Dale said gently. 

“Got it, right, uh, okay.” Sofie pointed around the room, naming all her friends, “Ricky, aka Mr. March-” a tall, even more buff than Dale Asian-American man Cody vaguely recognized- “his girlfriend Esther, Kingston Brown and Liz-” an older black man with his arm around a Hispanic woman who nodded cordially at Cody- “and Pete!” Sitting at the end of the couch beside Kingston was a man with brown hair and a pin-covered jacket, staring at Cody like he’d seen a ghost.

“Uh,” Cody waved vaguely at the crowd, “‘Sup? I’m Cody, or, uh, Night Angel, uh, fucking… yeah.” 

“Yeah, Cody, everyone; everyone, Cody.” Sofie repeated, flicking her wrist in a _tada_ motion.

“Cody, I think there’s room over next to Liz, if you want to sit down?” Esther said, pointing towards the other end of the couch. Liz shifted so he could squeeze in next to her, and before he knew it, Ricky was in the middle of a story about saving a little girl’s teddy bear from a fire- he used to be a fireman, apparently? Kind of sick- and the whole group was laughing and interjecting. 

After a while, Esther and Ricky- it was their house, Cody was pretty sure- passed around plates and food, and in the shuffle of people passing dishes and getting drinks, Cody ended up sitting next to the jacket guy- Pete.

“I like your, uh, buttons, dude.” Cody said, nodding at Pete’s jacket. “Sick.” There were a half-dozen different pins and buttons, including the bi flag, the trans flag, and a bunch of logos for things Cody didn’t recognize.

“Uh, yeah, thanks,” Pete nodded, meeting Cody’s eyes. There was the briefest check in- _yeah, you? Yeah-_ before Pete nodded again in recognition. “Cool boots.”

“Yeah, fucking, they’re steel toed so if I ever have to kick some ass I’m like, ready, you know? I used to carry around like, fucking swords and throwing stars and shit but my new boss is all like _‘you can’t bring weapons into a restaurant, Cody,’_ which is like. Fucking bullshit.”

“Right, you work at Wally’s in Harlem, right? I thought I recognized you, I go in there sometimes before work.” Cody nodded, suddenly remembering.

“Yeah, you get that weird orange tea thing, right?”

“Yeah, the turmeric and lemon immunity tea,” Pete said, looking kind of red in the face. Maybe he was hot? He was sitting shoulder to shoulder with Ricky on the couch, and wearing a thick-looking sweater under his jacket. “I work the bookstore around the corner- Uncommon Knowledge.”

“Dude, I walk past that place everyday to get my train. Fucking, small world.”

“Yeah, totally.” Pete smiled at him, mouth twisted like he was trying not to, and something in Cody’s stomach _shifted,_ pinned under Pete’s gaze.

Then Kingston was asking Cody a question about the mall, and Ricky had turned to include Pete in the conversation he was having with Esther, and the moment shattered. 

* * *

**CODY:**

Cody hesitated outside of Uncommon Knowledge. He was working the second shift at Wally’s and had a half an hour before he had to go in, so he’d left early and stress-smoked a cigarette butt outside the storefront for fifteen minutes before finally going in. Pete was standing at the counter, head bent over a book, but he looked up when the bell over the door chimed Cody’s entrance. 

“Oh, hey, Cody,” Pete said, face breaking into an easy smile as he closed the book he’d been reading and tucked in under the counter. 

“Hey, uh, I was just- I have work in a bit and I thought I’d come by, see if this place was as fucking dope as you said, uh. Yeah, so.”

“Right, yeah, no problem. Are you looking for anything specific, or…?” 

“Uh, something dope? I don’t know, I don’t read a ton, uh-” maybe _not_ the best thing to say to a guy who worked in a bookstore, Cody realized- “fucking, what do you recommend?”

Pete frowned, leaning on the counter and propping his head on his hands. “Lovecraft is pretty good as far as like, cosmic horror goes- like Cthulhu and shit-”

“Ah, _sick.”_

“But he was also like, extremely radically racist-”

“Uhh, _less_ sick.”

Pete laughed. “Yeah, I mean he like, basically innovated a new branch of cosmic scifi horror shit, but also. Not the best legacy to have, you know? Makes reading his stuff… less cool.”

“Yeah no totally, it fucking sucks when creators of dope shit turn out to be fucking shit heads, because then like, how am I supposed to like their stuff?”

“Yeah,” Pete nodded, fiddling absent-mindedly with the blue, pink, and white button on the jacket he was wearing, “it makes my whole childhood growing up reading Harry Potter kind of shit now that we know JKR’s a terf.”

“Shit, yeah.”

“Anyway,” Pete shook his head, peering over Cody’s shoulder at the stacks behind him. “Uh, there are a lot of things that are like, inspired by Lovecraft’s works but with less blatant racism, or if you’re looking for something that’s more classic horror, we have a lot of Stephen King’s books in the back.”

“Didn’t he do that fucked up clown movie-book-thing? With the kids?” 

“Yeah, but he’s done some other stuff, too- less clowns.” Pete said, finally stepping around the counter and gesturing for Cody to follow him deeper into the store. Uncommon Knowledge was surprisingly dope, in that quaint, indie way that Cody had never put much stock into. There wasn’t enough black, or upside down crosses, or posters on the walls for Cody’s tastes, but it seemed to suit Pete. Eventually, Cody ended up picking out a Steven King book- not the clown one, clowns freaked Cody out if he was being honest- and Pete led him back to the counter to check out. 

There were little baskets of knick knacks and stickers and pins lining the counter that Cody hadn’t noticed when he first came in. Quotes and little caricatures of famous authors and puns that Cody assumed had something to do with various books he hadn’t read. He pawed through the baskets as Pete rang him up. 

Cody hesitated, fingers drifting over a pin he’d dug up from the bottom of the basket. It was, objectively, fucking cool. Black words on a blood-red background; _he/they._

_Fuck it._ They pulled it out of the basket and put it down on the counter. “Uh, this too?” They asked, feeling unnecessarily nervous. It was Pete, he wouldn’t be shitty about it, right? And if he was, fuck him too. 

Pete’s eyes jumped from Cody’s face, to the pin, and back down. “Sure, yeah totally.” He said, perfectly casual. “This pin style’s really fucking cool,” he continued, scanning the tiny barcode, “one of my coworkers has the they/them one.” 

“Yeah, uh,” Cody pressed his fingers against one of the spikes on his belt, one after the other, like he could draw the nervous energy in the pit of his stomach out through his fingertips. “I’ve been thinking about it a while, and it just seems like, fuck it, you know? Fuck people who’d say shit.”

“Yeah, man, good for you,” Pete was grinning as he put Cody’s book in a bag and handed them back the pin. “Hey, if you pin it to your duster, we could match.” He pointed at the trans flag pin on the chest pocket of his jacket. 

“Uh, yeah, fucking-” Cody fiddled with the tiny back on the pin, sticking it through the lapel on his duster. “Yeah. Hell yeah, dude.”

“Maybe Sof will stop teasing you about your jacket now,” Pete teased, handing Cody the bag with their book in it. 

“God I hope so,” Cody groused, “I fucking love this duster.” 

“It looks good on you,” Pete said, his head tilted to one side like he was admiring Cody. It was- it was fine. Normal. Cool. Pete was just being friendly, or whatever. Cody’s stomach definitely didn’t do some weird twisting thing and he definitely wasn’t blushing and it was fucking… _fine._ Whatever. 

“Sofie’s great, though,” Pete continued, “a little… _much,_ sometimes. But she’s one of the kindest and most loyal people I know, if she latches onto you you’re stuck with her for life. Speaking from experience.”

“Yeah,” Cody twisted the handles of their bag between their fingers. “I’m pretty sure she’s adopted me too, like I’m some fucking- baby bird or something.”

“Yeah, that’s just how she is,” Pete shrugged, “you learn to love it.”

“It’s not the worst,” Cody admitted. “Anyway, I should probably… I have a shift soon and-”

“Yeah, yeah, no totally.” Pete waved away Cody’s awkward excuses, “I’ll see you, uh…?”

“Yeah, around, fucking… come by Wally’s sometime.” Cody looked down at his boots, trying very hard to sound cool and not like his brain was leaking out of his ears or something else equally fucking mortifying. Pete was just so effortlessly cool and like, unfairly handsome, and it was making Cody’s head spin. “I’ll read this,” They added, pointlessly, raising the bag with their book. 

“Right, cool,” Pete nodded. “See you, Night Angel.”

“Uh, later, dude. Thanks.” Cody ducked back out of Uncommon Knowledge, bag pressed to their chest. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

* * *

**PETE:**

Pete was good. He had dinner at Kingston’s every week and Sofie was always offering to give him a new haircut and he was three months sober and Ricky was... Ricky. But it was good. He went by Wally’s and talked to Cody whenever he opened at Uncommon Knowledge, and Cody would swing by with lunch sometimes on their way to Wally’s if they were working the afternoon shift. Pete had somehow ended up with Cody’s number after a confusing text train that involved Sofia, Esther, and Kingston’s friend Willy, for some reason. But they texted and it was fine. It was _good._

So, whatever. Maybe Pete had a tendency to catch feelings for people wildly out of his league and ruin friendships because of it. Maybe he liked people that were loud and bright and unapologetic about who they were. Maybe he liked the way Cody always seemed to look straight _into_ Pete, and the way he stomped around in his clunking boots, and the way he scowled down at a mug whenever he was concentrating too hard on latte art. Maybe he liked the way he slipped into Pete’s friend group-turned-family little by little; sullen at Sofia’s side at first, then curled on the couch with Ox, then arguing loudly with Esther while trying not to smile, then falling asleep during a movie with his hand still stuck in Kingston’s bowl of popcorn. It was- it was nice. _Whatever._

Pete wasn’t going to _do_ anything about it. Cody was still finding their footing with Sofie and Ricky and the others, and Pete remembered how his mostly-amicable break up with Rowan had shaken the foundations of their little family. He couldn’t stand to do that again. Plus, he’d gotten a little too used to seeing Cody around. Loitering outside Uncommon Knowledge when Pete got off, lighting up with a sharp grin whenever Pete came into Wally’s, dragging Pete along whenever Sofie convinced them to see her psychic with her. They were friends, and it was- it was really good, actually. And even if Pete did daydream about holding their hand or sitting together at Wally’s when Cody got off work or dragging his hands through their long, irritatingly soft-looking hair; it didn’t _mean_ anything. 

Sometimes, it was just nice to dream about stuff he couldn’t have.

His phone buzzed, and Pete shook his head, brushing away the residual daydreams. 

**_Sofie:_ ** _pizza movie night at miiiiine!! 7pm_

**_Sofie:_ ** _ATTENDANCE IS NOT OPTIONAL. you already agreed to come last week_

**_Pete:_ ** _did i?_

**_Sofie:_ ** _yes shut the fuck up_

**_Pete:_ ** _kidding i remember i’ll be there_

**_Sofie:_ ** _GOOD_

**_Sofie:_ ** _it’s just been forever since we’ve done anything just us, yk? And Dale’s out of town for his smarty-pants convention thing and i HATE being alone at the house_

**_Sofie:_ ** _my mom always starts coming around and making me feel guilty for not having the laundry done all the time and hinting about grandkids UGH_

**_Pete:_ ** _you have a cat, why have kids?_

**_Sofie:_ ** _this is why we’re friends_

**_Sofie:_ ** _exactly exactly_

**_Pete:_ ** _i get off soon, ill text when im on the ferry?_

**_Sofie:_ ** _yes good_

**_Sofie:_ ** _also…._

**_Pete:_ ** _want me to pick up some of those cannolis from the harlem branch of spaghetti’s?_

**_Sofie:_ ** _pleeeeaaasseeee_

**_Sofie:_ ** _u know me so well_

**_Sofie:_ ** _see u soon xoxox_

**_Pete:_ ** _xx_

Pete grinned down at his phone as he clicked it off. The bell on the door rang as he tucked his phone under the counter. “Hi, welcome to Uncommon Knowledge-” Pete started, but cut himself off when he saw Cody loitering at the entrance. “Oh, hey dude. Just got off?”

“Yeah,” Cody grumbled. His fists were buried in his duster pockets and he was staring daggers at the ground. 

“You good, dude?” Cody kind of looked like was having some kind of moment; and, hey, Pete had been there, no judgement, but he wasn’t not going to check in with them. They were- they were friends, right? That’s what friends do. 

“Uh, yeah, just fucking, uh- don’t really wanna go home, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, I get that.”

“Not that my roommate isn’t cool, I’ve lived with him forever, Josh is dope. I just-”

“You wanna hang out?” Pete asked, before he really had a chance to think it through. Cody froze, mid-sentence, and looked up at Pete, a surprised kind of deer-in-the-headlights hopefulness on his face, and- _damn._ Pete was really screwed. “Uh, I mean, Sof and I have a movie night panned tonight, but you could tag along, I’m sure Sofia won’t mind.” 

Pete bit his lip, trying to decide which was the worse option: Sofie being mad he dragged Cody along to movie night, or Sofie catching on to the feelings Pete was trying (and failing) to hide.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sure, as not as I’m not, like intruding or anything.”

“No, no, Sofie loves you, it'll be good. Dale’s just out of town and she gets lonely in her house all by herself.” Pete hesitated, “Oh, uh, she does live on Staten Island.”

Cody’s expression dropped, and Pete couldn’t help laughing. “The ferry isn’t _that_ bad, but- yeah. Staten Island.” 

“Right.”

“If you don’t wanna come, I get it, it’s not a big deal-”

“No, no.” For some reason, Cody looked kind of red as he interrupted Pete, eyes flying between his face and the floor between his shoes. It was _frustratingly_ charming. “I’ll go. It’d be good to see Sofia, and-” he hesitated- “I wanna go.”

“Cool, cool.” Pete dragged a hand through his hair, trying to keep the nervous-excited energy roiling in his stomach under control. “Cool. I, uh- I get off in like, twenty minutes, and then we can go? We also have to stop by Spaghetti’s and get some cannolis.”

“What the fuck is _Spaghetti’s?”_

“Uh, yeah, it’s a whole thing, but Sof swears the cannolis from the Harlem branch are better than the ones in Staten Island; and, like, I’m not gonna _argue_ with her.”

“Yeah,” a smile broke out over Cody’s face, and Pete’s heart did something _mortifying_ in his chest, “I don’t have a fucking death wish, I’m not gonna argue with Sofia Lee.”

“Shout out to Dale Lee,” Pete said, raising his hand like he was making a toast, “the bravest man in Staten Island.”

Cody laughed, and raised their own hand in solidarity, knocking their fist against Pete’s. “Cheers to that, dude.”

* * *

**CODY:**

Movie night was surprisingly really fun. Cody and Sofie made fun of Pete’s choice of pizza toppings- bell peppers _and_ pineapple _and_ sausage, what the fuck- and piled all together on Sofia’s couch. With Sof sprawled in between them, uncaring of any kind of personal space, Cody was able to mostly ignore Pete’s proximity. How they were only a handful of inches apart at any given time. How Cody could theoretically just reach over and press his arm against Pete’s, lean his head against Pete’s shoulder. But it was hard to focus on the maybe-sexual-tension between them with Sofie’s feet in their lap and her arms around Pete’s chest. Like it was second nature to her, connecting them together one-two-three without hesitation. 

For a while, Cody thought that was just how Sofie was. Tactile and clingy and cold natured, prone to cuddling with anyone she could reach. Until Pete went to the bathroom and Sofie swung on Cody with an all-too-knowing smile on her face.

“Spill.” She poked them in the stomach, hard.

“What?” Cody felt like their face was on fire. “I don’t- fucking- what are you talking about?”

Sofia scowled, her eyebrows furrowing together and her nose scrunching up in tiny wrinkles. “You and _Pete,_ dummy.” She poked them again. “What is going _on;_ you have to tell me it’s my house, my rules.”

“I- nothing. We’re friends.” Sofie’s scowl didn’t let up. _“Friends,”_ they repeated, but it sounded weak even to their ears. 

Sofie sighed, combing her bangs up and out of her eyes. “Look. Pete is one of my best friends, I’ve known him for years, and I know what he looks like when he has a crush on someone, and _you-”_ she circled her finger in front of their face, once, twice, before poking them gently on the nose- “are not as subtle as you think you are.”

Cody twisted the chain of his necklace- the charm looked like a vial of blood, it was sick as hell- around his finger. “I was gonna ask him out,” he muttered, determined not to look up at Sofie.

_“What?”_ She hissed, grabbing his hands. 

“I just- I went by after work and I was gonna ask him to get, fucking pizza or coffee or ice cream or something else fucking _boring_ and _basic,_ and then I fucking choked and I couldn’t get it out and he asked me to come here instead.” Sofie was uncharacteristically quiet for a moment, and Cody finally looked up from their hands to see Sof staring at him, wide-eyed and looking almost manic. “What?”

“I’m third wheeling your date,” she whispered, sounding altogether _too_ proud of herself.

“What the _fuck?”_ Cody shouted, and then caught himself, lowering his voice, “No the fuck you’re not. This isn’t a date, dude, it’s just- we’re just hanging out, or whatever.”

“Right.” Sofie winked at him, exaggerated and grinning. 

Cody slumped back against the couch as Pete walked back into the living room, hoping that if they leaned back far enough, the couch would just absorb them. 

“Sorry, I’m back,” Pete said, and Cody felt his weight settle back on the couch- closer than before. “Night Angel? You good, dude?” Pete asked, voice gentle and amused. “You’re kind of… burrowed into the couch.” _Fuck._

“Uh, yeah,” Cody sat up, “fucking… all good, dude.” Pete and Sofie had changed places on the couch, with Pete sitting in the middle next to Cody, and Sofie leaning against the far armrest, feet piled in Pete’s lap. “Let’s finish the movie.”

“You know, if you wanna go home, I get it, it’s late-”

“No, I’m fucking, totally good,” Cody interrupted, a little too quickly. Pete didn’t seem to notice, just grinned at them a little and nodded. 

“Cool, cool.” 

“Right, well if we’re all settled…” Sofia raised an eyebrow at Cody, which they pointedly ignored, and pressed play on the remote to continue the movie.

“Hey,” Pete whispered, breath hot against Cody’s ear, “is it cool if I…?” He stretched his arm along the back of the couch, resting it half against the back of Cody’s shoulders and neck. 

“Yeah, fuck, that’s- that’s fine.”

“Cool, it was just hard to find a position that wasn’t awkward, but if it makes you uncomfortable-”

“No, you’re- it’s all good.”

“Cool,” Pete turned back to look at the movie, his shoulders settling. “Thanks.”

After that, trying to focus on the movie was kind of a moot point. As soon as it was over, Cody shuffled to the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror, waiting for the bright red flush across his cheeks to fade. He messed with his hair a little bit, combing it out of his face, and then pushing it half in front so it covered his cheeks- but that just made him look like a fucked up 2012 scene kid. “Fuck,” he muttered to himself, “okay. Just- yeah. Shit. Yeah.” 

Cody couldn’t stop thinking about Pete’s arm over their shoulder, like they were some fucking teens on a movie theatre date. Or the way he whispered their name, _Night Angel,_ gentle and curious and with none of the disdain they usually heard. The way he’d spent the whole movie leaned against Cody; shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, thigh to thigh. _Fuck._

Sofie was in the kitchen, throwing away the old pizza boxes when Cody left the bathroom. “Hey, it’s kind of late, I don’t know if you and Pete wanna try and catch the ferry tonight, but you’re more than welcome to crash in the guest room.” 

“You’re just saying that because you love it when people stay in the guest room,” Pete said, coming into the kitchen behind Cody and leaning against the counter. Sofie wrinkled her nose at Pete, but didn’t argue against it; shrugging and pulling a cannoli out of the fridge. Pete rolled his eyes fondly and turned to Cody, “I’ll go with if you want to try and catch the ferry, but if you don’t wanna bother I’m fine to crash here.”

“Uh, sure, I don’t open tomorrow so I can crash here if you wanna stay.”

“Dope, neither do I.”

_“Yes!!”_ Sofia cheered quietly to herself, shimmying her shoulders and waving the half-eaten cannoli in the air, “Sleepover night! Okay, guest room is through here-” she walked down the hall past the bathroom- “there’s only one bed, but it’s a queen if you wanna share it? Or you can fight over who gets it and who sleeps on the couch, I don’t care.” She shoved the rest of the cannoli in her mouth. “Linens are in the closet, and there should be sheets for the couch, _if you need them.”_ She whispered the last part in a pointed undertone, winking, but Cody couldn’t tell if she was winking at him or at Pete. “I’m down the hall if you need me, but I think I’m going to turn in, okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” Pete said, sounding oddly strangled, but Cody didn’t look up; they were too busy staring at their boots and hoping Pete wouldn’t notice the flaming blush on their cheeks. “Night, Sof.”

“Night!” She called as Cody heard her walk down the hall and close her bedroom door. Leaving him alone in the hallway with Pete, standing awkwardly outside of the guest room.

“Uh, I can sleep on the couch-”

“I’ll sleep in the living room-” Cody and Pete said simultaneously. “Uh, fuck, it’s no big deal,” Cody said quickly, “my bed in the new apartment’s basically a pullout anyway so I’m like, fucking used to it.”

“No, you take it, I’ve slept in their guest room before, the bed’s really good, especially if you’re sleeping on a shitty bed at home. I’ll just grab a blanket and some sheets, no big deal. You can sleep in here, dude, you uh, you deserve it.” Pete opened the door to the guest room and crossed to the closet on the far side, digging out a pillow and throwing it on the floor behind him.

“Are you saying I look tired?” Cody asked, unsure if they should laugh or be offended.

“Yeah, _Night Angel,_ you do.” Pete poked his head out of the closet, deadpan. “Plus you were telling me the other day about how you got three horse of sleep the night before but were gonna be fine because _Monster Energy is the nectar of the gods.”_

Cody hesitated, before chuckling a little. “Fuck, dude, you got me there.”

“Look,” Pete walked back to where Cody was loitering in the doorway and put a hand on their shoulder, “I’ve lived on no sleep and too many Monsters before, dude.” There was an exaggerated, dead-eyed stare on Pete’s face that was _unfairly_ attractive. “You have to get some fucking sleep sometime.”

“Uh, fuck, whatever dude. Fine.” 

“Cool, I’ll see you in the morning, Night Angel.” Pete scooped the pillow up from where he’d tossed it on the floor and piled it on top of the fluffy-looking blanket he had draped over one arm. “I’ll make you some of Dale’s weird immuno-green tea shit. Maybe convert you to the dark side.”

“Pete, I was _born_ on the dark side.” Pete laughed a little at that, and _fuck, fuck, fuck._ “Hey, uh, if you just wanna share the bed-” Cody gestured uselessly over his shoulder at the guest bed- “it’s fine; it’s whatever.”

“No, no, it’s good, I’ll be fine in the living room.” Pete said quickly, his face turning an abrupt shade of red that Cody did not have the emotional awareness to parse the implications of at two in the fucking morning in Staten Island. “Night, Cody.” 

“Night,” Cody said, as Pete shut the door quickly.

_Fuck._

* * *

**PETE:**

Pete’s hands tightened around his hot mug of tea as Cody slouched out of the guest room the next morning. His hair was mussed and tied halfway up and out of his face- probably with a hair tie Sofie had left lying around- and the eyeliner around his eyes was smudged and faded. Pete’s heart twisted not-unpleasantly at the sight. Sleep-soft Cody, before he had his boots and his duster and his other armors on, ready for the world. It was a vulnerability Pete hadn’t expected.

It made him wonder what Cody saw in him; whether he noticed Pete’s unmatched socks and the almost-too-small sweatshirt he’d stolen from Sofia. 

“Morning,” Cody grunted, shuffling into the kitchen.

“Hey, tea?” Pete raised his mug in offering, and Cody glared at him, unimpressed. Pete stifled a grin, Cody worked in a coffee shop, after all. “Or not. How do you take your coffee? Sof and Dale have one of those fancy at home espresso machines, I could take a shot at being the barista.” Pete shot Cody a wink, before setting his mug down on the counter and turning to the machine.

“Uh, if you’re sure. I mean I usually just drink Monster when I'm not working but, uh, an americano with, like… a _shit ton_ of sugar is what I get if I need something during a shift. If you think you can handle that.”

“You sound highly confident in my skills as a barista, Night Angel,” Pete said, glancing over his shoulder at Cody leaning against the counter, before turning back to the machine and packing an espresso shot. Sofia was secretly very snobby about her coffee, and more often than not only trusted herself- not even Dale- to make her drink. Pete had worked a few months as a barista when he was twenty, but his skills weren’t even close to Sofie’s standards- which meant it said a lot that she befriended Cody and kept going back to Wally’s after getting a drink there. 

“I mean, I’ve seen a lot of people fuck up really easy coffee orders. Like, how hard is it to not burn milk? Like what the fuck, dude, you can _smell_ it.”

Pete snickered a little. “I know what you mean, I worked as a barista for a bit when I was in college and I don’t really drink coffee very much anymore but it did kind of make me a snob about it.”

“Your, uh, technique is good though.”

Pete glanced over his shoulder again. “Yeah?” Cody blinked up at him, fingers twisted together in an uncharacteristic show of anxiety. 

“Uh, yeah, dude. Whatever.”

“Okay,” Pete poured hot water on top of the pulled espresso shot before turning back to Cody, mug and a jar of white sugar in hand. “How much sugar counts as a shit ton? Is that a scientific term of measurement?”

“Oh yeah,” Cody said, face twisted in condescension, “that’s what they call me, that goth science guy.” Their eyes caught on the mug Pete had set on the counter in front of them; eyebrows raising comically high.

Pete twisted the mug around to look at the design on the front; he’d pulled it out of the cabinet without really paying attention to what it said, even though he knew Sofia and Dale’s cheesy mug collection was legendary. _Good Morning, Loverboy!_ The mug proclaimed in gaudy, bright red bubble letters, complete with a cartoon face with heart-eyes bugging out of their head. 

“Uh,” Pete glanced between the mug and Cody’s face, stomach twisting in abrupt nerves. Fuck, shit, Sofie couldn’t have planned this better if she tried, Pete thought, before turning the mug back around and trying to laugh it off. “Hah, Sof’s got some weird fucking mugs.” Pete started shovelling sugar into the coffee. “I mean, the one I’m using says _At Least We’re Better Than Jersey,_ which, I mean yeah, but what the fuck, right?”

“I’m from Jersey, dude.”

“Oh. Fuck.” Pete pushed the mug across the counter to Cody. “At least you live in New York now, right? Can’t control where we grow up.” 

Cody stared at him for a moment, the same unwavering, sullen glare that used to unnerve Pete back when Cody was just Night Angel, the cute goth barista, and Pete was just a guy who’d come in and get tea sometimes before work. Now, Pete could see the twitch of their mouth as Cody tried- and eventually failed- not to smile. “Shut the fuck up, dude. Whatever.” They picked up the mug, cradling it in both hands, and took a sip. “Not the worst.”

“Hey,” Pete grabbed his abandoned mug of tea off the counter from where he’d left it beside Cody, letting his hand bump against Cody’s wrist as he did. “Thanks, that means so much coming from the best barista at Wally’s.”

Cody rolled their eyes, still grinning. Pete wasn’t sure if this was what Sofia meant by _say something to them_ the night before, but Pete would take his successes where he could. This counted as flirting, right? 

Pete’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to glance at it.

**_Sofie:_ ** _ask them out, bozo!!_

Pete glanced between Cody and his phone a few times, before typing out an answer.

**_Pete:_ ** _wtf are you eavesdropping_

Sofia’s response was lightning quick. 

**_Sofia:_ ** _even if i was_

**_Sofia:_ ** _there’s nothing to EAVESDROP ON_

**_Sofia:_ ** _SAY SOMETHING. WHY DO YOU THINK IM HIDING OUT IN MY OWN HOUSE_

Pete heard something else buzz, and he looked up to see Cody scowling down at their phone. 

**_Pete:_ ** _are you yelling at cody, too?_

**_Pete:_ ** _sof wtf_

Sofia didn’t respond, which was an answer in and of itself.

Pete set his phone face down on the counter, determined to ignore any further meddling texts from Sofie. If she wanted to matchmake she could come out here and do it to their faces. Not that he would tell her that, because she’d probably take it as a challenge and actually do it. 

He loved Sofie but she always got like this, overeager about setting two people up. He saw it with Ricky and Esther, when Kingston and his former ex-wife Liz started talking again, even when he and Rowan had that awkward, ill-fated flirtation. Pete thought it probably had to do with how sickeningly happy and in love Sofie and Dale were, and that his best friend just wanted their whole little found family to be as happy as she was. It was sweet that she was trying to set them up, but Pete suspected it would be ineffective. Who knew if Cody even felt the same way, whether he noticed Pete’s little attempts at flirting, whether he felt the crackling electricity between them. Who knew whether he was even looking for anything- much less anything serious. 

Pete glanced over at Cody again, their hands with chipped black polished wrapped around the Loverboy mug, the few strands of hair that had fallen out of their messy bun and into their face. They looked relaxed, staring out the window in Sofie’s dining room at their huge backyard. Pete wondered if Dale’s beloved deer were out there right now, wondered if Cody would catch on to Dale and Sofie’s infectious enthusiasm for their precious deer. 

Probably not, but it was still an amusing thought. 

They ended up taking the ferry back to the city later that afternoon, Cody awkwardly carrying a frozen lasagna the whole way that Sofie shoved into their arms on the way out the door. Cody grumbled about the cold and how Sofie was always trying to get them to eat more the whole trip back. Pete did his best to smile and seem sympathetic and not laugh at Cody’s grouchy expression as they held the tupperware on their lap like a goth grandmother. He only had partial success, but Cody didn’t seem to mind.

A few days after movie night, Pete popped into Wally’s before work. Cody wasn’t behind the counter, just a blonde girl with pink streaks and a guy Pete thought he’d seen Cody talking to on shift a few weeks back. 

“Hey what can we get started for you?” They guy said, a friendly smile on his face as Pete approached the counter. 

“Hi, yeah, can I just get a hot green tea with the immune boost thing?”

“Yeah sure, no problem,” the guy- Josh, according to his name tag- said, tapping it out on the pad in front of him. “Hey, you’re Pete, right?” 

“Uh, yeah?”

“Sorry,” Josh said quickly, “I’m friends with Cody- Night Angel- and he’s mentioned you. But not like, in a creepy way. You guys are like- you’re friends, right?” Josh asked, putting a weird emphasis on _friends._

“Yeah.” _Cody talks about me to his other friends?_ “We’re- I mean, yeah, we’re friends.”

“Cool, cool. Uh, your total is gonna be $3.27-”

“Right, yeah, uh here.” Pete handed him a couple of bills, sticking another one and the change Josh passed back into the tips jar. “Uh, where is Cody, if you don’t mind me asking? Doesn’t he usually work Tuesday mornings?” Pete prayed that Josh wouldn’t think it was weird that Pete knew Cody’s schedule. 

They were friends, right? Josh had said so, it was normal for friends to know each others’ schedules; Cody always seemed to know when Pete was getting off or when he had to work through lunch. It was- it was normal. Super casual. Regular friend stuff.

“Yeah, he’s got a convention thing today he was going to go to so he asked me to cover him.” Josh handed off the cup with Pete’s order scribbled on it to the other barista. He glanced over Pete’s shoulder at the rest of the cafe, like he was making sure there wasn’t anyone else there. “Can I ask you something, dude?” Josh said, leaning over the bar a little towards Pete.

“Uh, sure?”

Josh pursed his lips briefly, shook his head a little. “You and Cody is it- are you guys…?” 

“Oh, uh, we’re friends.” Pete said quickly. _Fuck, am I really that obvious? Is he gonna tell Cody? Shit, shit, shit._

“Right,” Josh said, like he didn’t believe him. “Friends. Look, Pete, just as an outside perspective, from someone who knows Night Angel really well, if you wanted to be… more than friends with them, you could be.”

“I-”

“No pressure in either direction, dude, and it’s probably not even my place to say, but Cody’s bad at like, emotional stuff. Talking about his feelings and shit? Not his strong suit. But he’s a really good guy-”

“I know.”

Josh smiled; kind of like permission, kind of like encouragement. “Good. Anyway, I just thought I’d give you a head’s up, you know? That if you wanted anything… it’s not gonna be, like, out of left field.”

Oh. 

_Oh._

“Cool.” Pete ran a hand through his hair, head spinning. “Cool, cool, yeah thanks, uh- yeah.”

Josh’s smile was warm and friendly. “Of course, dude, you seem like a really cool guy. And Cody doesn’t say that about a lot of people.”

“Right, shit, okay. Cool.”

“Green tea with an immunity boost for Pete?” The blonde barista called from the other end of the bar. 

“Uh, I’ve got to- that’s my drink. Thanks, Josh.” 

“No problem, Pete.” Pete nodded, probably a few times too often, and grabbed his drink off the bar. He smiled at the other barista- though it felt more like a grimace- and waved at her and Josh as he started towards the exit. “Pete,” Josh called right before Pete opened the door, “be good to him, yeah?”

Pete grimaced again, shrugging a little. “Or you’ll kill me?”

“Nah,” Josh chuckled a little, sharing a glance with the other barista, “Night Angel will.”

“Right. Thanks,” Pete called, before ducking out of the door. _Shit. Okay. Shit._

* * *

**PETE:**

Pete’s first instinct was to go big. Some big flashy scene culminating in asking Cody out on a date. Somewhere. 

Most of Pete’s exes would have appreciated or even expected the level of pageantry, but he suspected that Cody wouldn’t feel the same. 

Something smaller, then. Coffee was a little on the nose, and he had no idea what movies Night Angel was into, and the idea of being at a bar only three months sober kind of grated on Pete’s nerves. Dinner? 

“God,” Pete groaned, tearing his hands through his hair. He leaned back in bed and fought the urge to press his face into his pillow like someone out of a teenage angst-filled romantic comedy. “Fuck it,” He muttered, grabbing his phone off the nightstand and dialing Sofia’s number. She was never going to let him live this down, but hopefully he could get some decent advice out of it. And it was better than trying to ask Ricky or Kingston for help. 

“Pete?” Sofie asked, a little staticky through Pete’s ancient speakers.

“Hey, Sof, I uh have a favor to ask-”

“Yes I’ll cut your hair, no I don’t know what Ricky wants for his birthday, and you should take Cody to that new Hungarian place Kingston was telling us about down the street from St. Owen’s.”

“Oh. Uh.”

“Unless it wasn’t one of those things?” Sofia sounded vaguely surprised.

“No, I mean, yes. It was one of those things. You think Cody would like Hungarian?”

Sofie’s smug smile was audible even before she answered. “Yeah, Pete. Frankly I think Cody would be good with whatever you ask him to do, but Hungarian is a safe bet. Also bring me leftovers as a thank you.”

“Sof, if this doesn’t crash and burn, I’ll bring you Hungarian and cannolis whenever you want.”

Sofia laughed. “Careful making promises like that, Pete, or I’ll ask to be a flower girl at your wedding too.” Pete choked a little at that, which only made Sofia laugh more. “Seriously, though, it’s gonna be good.”

“Yeah?” Pete couldn’t help remembering how good it felt like he and Rowan would be at the start, and how quickly it all came crashing down on them- and on all the people around them. “I just don’t wanna fuck this up.”

“Yeah. I’ve never seen either of you have moon eyes like this, it’s kind of ridiculous.”

“Have you seen yourself with Dale?” Pete asked, trying to ignore her comment on his and Cody’s supposed _moon eyes._ “And _you’ve_ been married for three years.”

“Shut up, _loverboy._ I saw that mug you gave them the other day at my house.”

“I- that was an accident! I didn't notice what mug it was til I gave it to them!”

“Mmhmm,” Sofie hummed, disbelieving. 

“Whatever, Sof. I, uh, thanks. For- yeah. Thanks.”

“I just wanna see you guys happy,” Sofie told him warmly. “Now you just have to actually ask them.”

“Ugh, I know. How did Dale ask you out again?”

“Oh,” Sofie’s voice brightened like it did whenever she talked about her and Dale getting together, or their wedding, or their weekly date night. “He came in to get a haircut and flirted with me in that sweet, quiet way he does the whole time, and then I told him right before he left that I expected him to follow through on all that flirting with an actual dinner date, or else I’d fuck up his hair the next time he came in.”

Pete laughed. “Okay, so, cute story but not much use for me.”

“What? You mean you don’t think threatening to ruin Night Angel’s hair is gonna do it for you guys?”

“Not really. I’ll probably just wait for them to come into Uncommon Knowledge and ask them then?”

“That sounds good, Pete.”

“Thanks again, Sof.”

“Anytime, babes, anytime.”

Pete’s phone clicked gently as he hung up, feeling equal parts more calm and more nervous about asking Cody out. Now all he had to do was wait for them to show up at the bookstore. 

Pete spent the next two days jumping a little bit every time the bell over the door rang. Half-hoping, half-terrified it was Cody walking through the door. It was never them, until two days after Pete’s conversations with Josh and Sofia, the bell rang and heralded- finally, finally- Night Angel themself walking through the door. They looked typically sullen, and Pete shot them a brief grin before turning back to the college student he was checking out. Cody wandered over to one of the stacks, flicking through some of the spines while they waited, but Pete caught them glancing at him over their shoulder every few minutes. It was nice, but it didn’t help the pit of nerves growing in Pete’s stomach.

_Just say it. Don’t think about it, don’t overthink it, just spit it out._ Pete waved goodbye to the college girl as she took her bag and went out the door, the little bell ringing loudly in the quiet shop. 

“Hey,” Cody said, abandoning the shelf of books they were looking at and crossing the store to lean casually against the counter. “Busy day today?”

“Uh, you know, holiday shopping is starting to pick up, so it’s busier than it was, but it’ll get really crazy after Thanksgiving.”

“Cool, yeah.”

“So I was thinking that-”

“Did you want to-” Pete and Cody said simultaneously. “Uh, shit. You go.”

“Right, uh,” Pete said, twisting one of his bracelets around his wrist. “I was wondering if you wanted to get Hungarian with me. Dinner. There’s a new place down by St. Owen's that Kingston recommended, if you wanted- for dinner. With me, tonight.”

Cody blinked at him, once, twice, like something out of a cartoon, and Pete’s heart froze; torn between two equally shit options: Cody didn’t get it, or Cody wasn’t interested. Fuck.

“As a date.” Pete amended abruptly. Because he’d rather Cody know exactly what they were agreeing to, even if it meant Pete was getting rejected.

“Oh. uh, yeah.” Cody said, uncharacteristically quiet. 

“Yeah?”

A smile broke out over Cody’s face, bright and warm and surprised, and _god, fuck. Pete was really screwed, wasn’t he? But maybe it wasn’t a_ bad _kind of screwed, after all._ “Yeah, fuck, _yes._ Dude, I was gonna ask you-”

“What the fuck-”

“There’s a movie that just came out that I thought, fuck, I don’t know-”

“Yeah, no, we can go to a movie instead-”

“No, let’s go to dinner. Fuck. Yeah, let’s go on a date, dude.”

“Fuck.”

And then they were both laughing and Cody’s hand was on Pete’s shoulder as they leaned over the counter, almost doubled over. And an impossible weight was off of Pete’s chest because they said yes, they said _yes._ And then Cody twisted and flipped their other hand on the counter so it was holding Pete’s and then they were holding hands and still laughing and, god. God. 

“Let’s go on a date,” Pete echoed, a little bit breathless, a little bit giddy. “Fuck.”

“Sofie’s gonna kill me that you beat me to the punch dude,” Cody said, looking altogether undaunted by the prospect, grinning broader than Pete had ever seen.

“She’s been on my ass to say something to you for ages, too.”

“Yeah?”

“And Josh.” Cody blanched slightly, “I went into Wally’s the other day while you were at that convention thing and Josh like, gave me the best friend go ahead, I guess?”

“I’m gonna kill him,” Cody muttered, dropping his head into the hand that wasn’t holding Pete’s. “I’m _gonna kill him.”_

“It was kind of encouraging, actually.”

“Well now I know he kept asking if I came by here the last couple days.” Cody shook his head against his palm. “We’ve got to get better friends, dude.”

“Oh absolutely. But after dinner, maybe?”

Cody lifted their head out of their hands, the grin back in full force. “Yeah. After dinner, Loverboy.”

“Shut up, asshole.”

“Make me, asshole.”

And Pete did. 

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is [@grasslandgirl](https://grasslandgirl.tumblr.com/) and my inbox is always open for d20 thoughts/theories/prompts!! comments and kudos always make my day, thank you so much for reading <3


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